by H. D. Gordon
Delia smiled—a full smile–one that was the result of having been living carefree, in a place where there was no threat or danger, where one need not fear for their safety and life. I knew in that moment that cutting and running was the right decision, that no amount of power or influence was worth sacrificing such reassurance.
“I love it here,” Delia answered. “There’s only one thing missing.”
I tilted my head. “What’s that?”
“You and the family,” she said.
I nodded. “We’re on our way,” I promised.
And prayed to the Gods I was right.
Chapter 21
The Isle of Arabella was technically part of Fae territory, but the Fae who lived here were not under the rule of the Fae Queen in the infamous Fae Forest. These were a peaceful bunch, and they welcomed people of all kinds, as long as those people entered without intention of doing any harm.
As Delia showed me around, I tried to imagine what it would be like to live in such a place, and could see why my little sister seemed so at ease. Things were simpler here, but that did not mean they were any worse off for the lack of refinement. In fact, I thought maybe it was better for it.
The Fae children were the most delightful creatures I’d ever seen, and the way they played with Little Demarco and the twins was most endearing. Their skin was of various colors—purple, blue, emerald, and fuchsia, and wings sprouted from their backs. The wings of the females were composed of vibrant feathers, while the males had more insect-like attachments. Their ears were pointed and their eyes were slanted, and they were beautiful not in spite of their otherness, but because of it.
Ana and Ada shifted into their Wolf forms along with Little Demarco, and this seemed to delight the Faelings. They chased each other, giggling and leaping and fluttering from place to place, exhibiting the uninhibited joy only the very young seem capable of.
The adult Fae were also welcoming, offering smiles and nods as we passed through the village. One female even approached with a coconut, having cut a triangle into the top so that I could sip the sweet juice inside.
The air was warm, the sun a pleasant presence in the sky, and when we walked on a little further, we came to a pool that was fed by a waterfall and glistening crystalline blue.
“Feel like a swim?” Eli asked, already stripping down to his underwear.
I glanced around me, seeing that others were frolicking about, and thought perhaps there was time for such enjoyment.
The twins and Little Demarco, still in their Wolf forms, rushed passed me and leapt into the water, sending up a spray that made the trailing Fae children giggle. Delia stood at the edge of the water with a little smile on her face.
“Go on,” she told me. “The water is so warm and clean.”
I took off my clothes until I was just in my undergarments, and dipped a toe in the water. Then Delia shoved me from behind, and I tumbled forward, landing in the pool with a splash. When my head emerged from the surface, I glared at my little sister without true malice, and earned a pleased wink from her.
Eli swam over to me and slipped his arms around my waist. “That was pretty funny,” he said.
“So glad you enjoyed it,” I replied, pushing the wet hair off my forehead.
Delia took up a spot beneath a tree while the rest of us played in the water. For a time, my mind was free of worry, absent of distraction.
“Is this where your exit plan takes us?” I asked Eli, slipping my hands around the back of his neck and lacing my fingers there.
“If this is where you’d like it to,” he answered. “There are other places that would be a good fit, too.”
I swallowed, afraid to ask the next question, but needing the answer, nonetheless. “And when we go…will you be coming with us?”
Elian’s dark eyes studied me, and in his slight pause, my heart beat a million times. “Do you want me to come with you?” he asked.
“Yes.”
A slow smile spread across his face, making him all the more handsome. “Then, yes,” he said. “If I’m being honest, I don’t think I ever want to be without you.”
If not for all the children around, these words might have made me do things to him that would express just how very much this answer pleased me.
“Good,” I said.
We played in the pool for a while longer, but before too much time had passed, reality began to seep back into my thoughts. There was a whole world of trouble, a whole host of problems waiting for me back in the other realm. I almost wondered if this glimpse of paradise, of the way things could be, was not a sad teaser of a future that may never come.
But I pushed these thoughts away, because they would do no good. I could plan and prepare all I wanted for the confrontation with the Mangeras, but I could not predict the future. While I hoped that we would sustain no losses, life had taught me the harsh lesson that this would not always be the case.
After swimming, we returned to the village, and Delia gave me a tour of their dwelling space. The hut was actually much more spacious than it looked from the outside, with beds for each of them and a table at which they could eat.
“Are you okay here for a while longer?” I asked my little sister as I prepared to take my leave.
“Of course,” she said. “Don’t worry about the twins and Little Demarco. I’m taking care of them, just like you always took care of me. We’re all okay here…. As long as you come back for us.” She paused so that she could draw me into a tight hug, and when she pulled back, she asked, “You will come back for us, right, Dita? Do you promise?”
I nodded. “I can promise that I’m damn sure gonna try.”
Delia’s throat bobbed as she swallowed, and while I could feel the emotions rising up in her, she did not shed a tear. Somehow, along with her maturation, she’d grown stronger and more poised.
“I suppose that should have to do,” she said with a nod.
I kissed her cheek, supposing that, indeed, it should.
Leaving was hard, and it would be a lie to say that I didn’t strongly consider just packing up the rest of my loved ones and bringing them to the Isle of Arabella, leaving the entire mess in Cerys behind.
But the people on the Isle were so good, so kind, and if I didn’t handle things before returning, I could potentially bring a world of trouble to their doorstep. Along with all the other reasons to finish what had been started, I could do no such thing.
“You’re curiously quiet,” Eli observed as we passed through the magical border and began the journey back to Cerys and the plantation.
“Just thinking,” I replied.
“Mm?”
“Of what life would be like…. What it could be like.”
The Demon was silent for a time. We travelled the three hours back home, and when we were nearing the house, he asked, “Dita…. Are you afraid of what’s coming next?”
I looked over at him, biting my lip and releasing a slow sigh. “I’d be a fool not to be.”
He took my hand, offering comfort with his touch. “We’ll get to where we’re going,” he said. “We’ll do it together.”
I nodded, wishing I could fully believe him.
When we reached the plantation, I felt the presence of my Pack around me, the atmosphere that Kyra always insisted was haunted by the ghosts of long lost Dogs. I entered the house and went straight into the office, calling to me those closest. We’d waited long enough. We needed to strike and be done with it.
Once Devon, Kyra, Cora, Cecelia, Mila, Elian and I were all gathered, I poured us glasses of shine and nodded solemnly.
“We have two options,” I said. “We either lure them out, or we go in and get them. I want to move tonight.”
Though this prospect was scary, I could sense that the others were eager to be done with this thing as well.
“What’s the plan, D?” my brother asked.
“A little of both, actually,” I replied. “First, I’m going to set a trap for the Mad Wo
lf, and I’m going to kill him. Once that is taken care of, we’ll plan and go in and get Mangera at his mainstay. Then, we leave. Eli will help us sell the properties, arrange the assets, and make sure the Demarco Institute stays funded. After that, we’re done…. Are we all in agreement with this plan?”
Everyone confirmed that they were.
“How are we going to lure out Lucian?” Kyra asked.
“With bait,” I answered.
The others glanced around nervously.
“What kind of bait?” asked Devon.
“I’m the one he wants. I’m the one who killed his brother, who burned his Wolves alive and left him in that coma. I’m the reason his face looks half melted off, so it seems pretty obvious to me.”
Silence held for a few ticks.
At last, Kyra said, “Dita, Lucian is strong. Maybe one of the strongest Wolves any of us have ever met. We all know you’re strong, too, but I’d be lying if I didn’t express some concern over this idea. I don’t want you alone with that male. Not for a single minute.”
My hands went down to my hips, where my duel revolvers rested. One day soon, I hoped, I would be able to take off the guns, to not need to wear them for every waking hour. But that day was not today, and for now, I took the comfort they offered.
“I won’t be alone,” I said, fingers brushing the weapons. “And, yes, the Mad Wolf is strong, but I beat him before, and I can beat him again.”
“Okay,” Mila said. “How do we do it then?”
“I need to put myself in a vulnerable situation, one where Lucian will think I’m an easy target, but not so obvious that he’ll be suspicious.”
“How will we set that up?” Devon said.
“I have to go where I know he’ll be, a place where I know he can’t stay away from.”
The others looked confused, but my brother had been with me the longest, and he’d known of the Mad Wolf back when we’d lived in The Mound.
“The Ring,” he said. “There’s a big fight tonight in Cerys, two high profile fighters. Lucian always did love the brutality of the sport.”
I nodded. “Precisely.”
While there were no longer Wolves who were enslaved and forced to fight, the traditions of The Ring had lived on in a different way. Wolves now became fighters because they wanted to, and the matches didn’t go to the death, but until submission.
Of course, there were accidents, and many did die, but at least it was a choice made of their own volition. It was outside of these fights that I used to hustle Wolfsbane in Borden. I’d always hated the sounds of them, the cheering of the crowds and the snarls and yelps of the fighters, but when forced to, one would find that they could get used to just about anything.
“You don’t have to do it alone,” Kyra insisted. “We need to be there to back you up.”
“If there are too many of us, he’ll sense the trap. He’ll see it coming.” I looked at my big brother. “Just you and me. You’re the one I’m always seen out with. It won’t strike him as strange if we’re together.”
Devon nodded, no hesitation in his reply. “Okay. Whatever you need, D.”
I checked the timepiece in my pocket. Tonight’s event would begin promptly at seven p.m., at the arena in downtown Cerys. We had a little over three hours to prepare.
“Let’s do it, then,” I said. “First the Mad Wolf, then the Mangeras, then…freedom.”
I would wonder much later why freedom was never free.
Chapter 22
The night was colder than any that had come before it, the winter sinking its teeth in deeper, locking into place between the tall buildings of Cerys.
Decorations for the Winter Harvest were starting to pop up, strings of lights and wreaths of pine adorning doorways and windows. My breath hung in front of me, a thick coat concealing the duel irons at my hips. Devon stood beside me, rubbing his hands together and shifting on his feet.
“Shit,” he mumbled. “It’s as cold as your heart out here, Dita.”
I smirked at his jab, rolling my eyes. “We’re going in soon.”
Across the street, the doors of the building housing the arena were thrown open, allowing spectators to stream in and purchase refreshments before finding their seats. It was a quarter until seven, and the crowd was at its thickest, the Wolves on the roster some of the best fighters in the realms.
Nia Night, the Wolf who’d saved me from being beaten to death back in Borden what seemed like a lifetime ago, was on the lineup, and I’d placed a fair sum on her victory. If there was time, and if all went well, I was hoping to catch up to the female and thank her again for what she’d done for me, maybe inquire after her wellbeing.
Five more minutes passed. I scanned the crowd for familiar faces, spotting no Mangeras, and no Mad Wolf, but that was to be expected. If Lucian were here, he would not make himself known, not until he was ready to attack. I just needed to give him the opportunity.
Seeing that the crowd was beginning to die down out here on the street, I jerked my chin at Devon and we crossed to the building’s entrance. Once there, we were able to bypass the lines and head straight up to the box seats I’d owned for the past year. This particular box had once belonged to Carson Cartier, but along with all of his other holdings, after I’d defeated him, it had passed on to me.
I made a conscious effort to relax my shoulders, to not let the tension show as I made my way down the private hallway with Devon. Part of me expected the Mad Wolf to jump out right here and now, and my hands stayed close to the irons concealed at my hips.
But we made it up to the box without hinderance, the Wolves standing as security nodding to me as we went. They knew me by now, and I’d made sure to grease their palms so that they would be more inclined to offer assistance should I require it.
The box was what one might expect of such a place. There were comfortable seats lined up along a glass window overlooking the arena below, offering the best view in the house without the nonsense and noise created by all the gathered people.
Along one wall was a table that was perpetually stocked with drinks and food, and it was here that Devon went first. This told me all I needed to know about how he was feeling this evening; Devon tended to stress eat.
I was the opposite. When I was on edge, hunger evaded me, and all I could think about was getting through whatever task was before me. I claimed a seat in front of the glass window, studying the crowd below intently.
The house was full tonight, the seats packed to capacity. They rose like bleachers, and were situated in an octagonal shape around the center stage. This central point was dominated by a large steal cage, and in that cage, the Wolves who were on the roster would shift into their beast forms and fight until one either submitted, or could no longer get up. There would be a total of five fights tonight, the most anticipated coming last, so I settled into my seat and tried to relax, knowing we would be here for a while.
It wasn’t long before the first fight began, and the crowd reacted in their usual fashion. I watched without flinching as the two Wolves in the cage tore into each other, remembering the first time I’d seen such a thing. I’d been around seven years old, and my father had taken me to the fights in Borden as a name day present. Devon had been nine, and he’d come along as well.
Of course, like all of my father’s presents, it was more for him than it was for me. I’d been excited to go with him, though, as Devon and I hadn’t known what to expect. I knew only that I was glad to be spending an evening with my father and brother.
I’d learned soon enough how brutal the display was, but what still stood out in my mind about the day was the way my father had watched us for our reactions. Devon had gasped, his hand coming up to his mouth and his eyes going wide with horror. The sounds were horrific; the yelps and snarls. The smell of blood had been even worse, so potent to a Wolf’s nose, so one could not blame Devon for such a response.
Personally, I’d intuited early on that my father respected very little about
another person, but one thing he revered was stoicism and strength. So even though I’d been as mortified about such a display as had been Devon, I’d watched with a blank face, my little hands shoved in my pockets, balled into fists.
I did not look away. I did not shutter. I did not cry out at the brutality of it. I simply watched without reaction, and when I’d glanced at my father, I’d seen clearly that this made him prouder than anything I’d done to date.
Poor Devon had not been so aware of my father’s attention, and when he’d shielded his eyes with his hands, Dion had grown angry.
He’d grabbed Devon hard by the back of the neck, eliciting a yelp from my brother. “Open your Gods damned eyes, boy,” my father had snarled, his deep voice audible even through the clamor of the crowd. “Don’t be a pussy. Your little sister has more strength than you.”
Seeing this had made my anger rise up quickly, but I knew that to lash out at my father would only bring me pain, so I’d spoken quickly and firmly into my brother’s head.
“Just open your eyes, Devon. You can look but you don’t have to see. Picture my face. Hold it in your mind. I’m here with you. It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here. Now open your eyes.”
Devon peeled his eyes open.
“Good,” I’d continued. “Lower your hands. Smooth out your face. Think of me. I’m here with you. Everything is fine.”
Devon had done what I’d instructed. I was sitting flush next to him, so I discretely took his hand into mine and held it for the remainder of the matches.
Seeing that he was now watching without reaction, our father had released his hold on Devon, and though our father had been abusive and neglectful before that event, that was the first time I realized that while I loved him, part of me also hated him, that if I had to, if one day it came down to it, I would kill the male who’d given me life in the name of protecting my brother. I’d shoot him dead if it meant keeping Devon safe.
